


I have no excuse for this sin just take it

by mortysmithh



Series: Rick and Morty porn [9]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Incest, M/M, Rough Sex, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortysmithh/pseuds/mortysmithh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got bored and figured some good ol' tentacle porn with MortMort wouldn't be bad<br/>Jesus christ forgive me for my sins</p>
            </blockquote>





	I have no excuse for this sin just take it

The squirming mass pulls itself up out of the portal, just as Morty had planned. And sitting not more than seven feet away from the creature and Morty, is Rick, tied up and unable to do anything but watch on helplessly. His attention’s yanked away, horrified stare shifting to an annoyed, slightly glazed glare in his eyes as his ears twitch at the sound of Morty starting to strip. As much as he tries to seem like he couldn’t care less, he squirms, trying his hardest to escape, but Morty knows all of his weak points by now, and it’s not so much as he’s afraid that _he’ll_ get hurt, he’s just worried that his grandson might have gotten in a bit over his head.

He nearly trips as he manages to stumble out of his pants, bare chest heaving slightly as he pants from excitement and slight embarrassment at his little fumble. “Ahem, R-Rick. I hope that y-you’re watching, a-and paying close attention. Y-Y-You, you wouldn’t even have had to worry, i-if- if you weren’t- h-hadn’t been peeking, like a-a little _pervert_ , you know, s-so don’t- d-don’t even say a word, just- e-enjoy the show, I guess,” and there’s a small curl of malicious amusement in those last few words, cheeks tingeing a few shades darker of red as he steps closer to the thing he’d ‘summoned’ using Rick’s portal gun.

It’s about six or seven feet in total length, if going by approximate measurements. After all, who has time to bother with a ruler with tentacles flailing all about? Soft, slick sounds emanate from it; it seems almost agitated, or perhaps excited. The tops are a dusky navy colour, the undersides an almost pastel, baby blue, and Morty wonders whether he’ll have time to take a few pictures, if not just to appreciate the aesthetics of the creature.

But a slick appendage reaches out, the mass as a whole scooting closer to him as well, and as it wraps itself around his leg, he can hear Rick’s breath hitch. He struggles to keep his eyes open, resisting the urge to let them fall shut into a relaxed state as the cool muscle massaging him is tempting them to.

“M-Morty,” he croaks out, and his voice is crackled, his stammer much more prominent in the way that shows he isn’t quite desperate to get out of his bonds, but it’s only because he knows Morty’s too good with knots to have left Rick any possible way to escape without his help. He blushes, clearing his throat in an attempt to seem more in-control, despite being in a position that forces him to bare everything; the most ‘hiding’ thing he can do is tuck his chin in, after all. “Morty, y-you- listen, y-y-you don’t understEURGH- understand, M-Morty. It- th-these, the Flunnohrsians, th-they- they don’t fuck around, Morty, please, y-you gotta- gotta listen to me, th-this one ti-”

A scowl crosses over his face, and while it isn’t anything serious, he has a flash of determination in his eyes, the kind that Rick knows to usually lead to Morty doing something stupid. His right arm twitches, a pointless attempt to reach out and stop Morty as the boy steps closer still to the mass of tentacles, then reaches out, takes one swaying limb into a hand, and brings it to his mouth to suck on it gently. Rick grimaces, almost has to close his eyes because he knows what’s going to happen next, anticipates the sudden, swift way the mass wraps countless feelers around Morty’s body and lifts him up a few feet into the air. Not nearly enough to hurt if Morty were to be dropped, but still pretty scary for a 15 year-old boy.

He squeals sharply at the abrupt loss of feeling his own weight on his body, struggling out of reflex for a few moments before he relaxes, letting out a soft sigh as he lets his body untense limb by limb. “Flgh’krr bloer sh’v, trizef.” He utters the alien language without so much as a stutter, only pausing to add on, “Biurakh zhef’yr Rick qufohr?” and the mass lets out a deep series of gurgles, unraveling several tentacles to start roaming Morty’s body at a pace that’s much too fast for the still-watching Rick.

He feels so helpless, and while some part of his mind feels fucked-up about it, like he should _do_ something to stop this, another part of him (specifically, his cock) is enjoying the show, loves the way Morty jerks and gasps out a whimper of Rick’s name as the tip of one azure appendage prods at his ass, pausing to wrap itself around a bottle of lube and empty it all onto Morty’s stomach before dragging the tip through and starting to stretch his grandson.

Soft gasps and pants leave him at every movement of the mass that’s still got him three feet up in the air, his body jerking and twitching as it quickly starts to border between too much and not nearly enough. He manages to keep eye contact with Rick this entire time, though, only breaking it for a few seconds at a time as his eyes roll back into his head at the tease to his prostate, or the way his eyes flutter, struggling to stay open and failing for a few, breathtaking moments as yet another appendage wraps around his neck, squeezes just hard enough that his cheeks go a few shades pinker and his dick twitches, getting harder still.

Whatever he told the mass, it’s clearly been given the ok on whatever it feels like doing, because Morty certainly doesn’t seem to be expecting it to shove 9 inches of tentacle abruptly up his ass. He’s used to large insertions, of course, but he isn’t used to the nearly painful accuracy of this particular species of tentacle monsters, isn’t prepared for how all of the length presses up _hard_ against his prostate, continuing to stimulate it spot-on as the tentacle expands, spreads his ass wider still before starting to thrust. It starts slow, and pulls out several times to coat itself with more lube from Morty’s torso, which is now shiny with a mixture of the lubrication and sweat, but after its established a basic pattern, it doesn’t hold back.

However, Morty manages to gasp out a few more words in Flunnohrsian, and it stops thrusting, still teasing at the kid’s nipples as it changes position, and now Morty’s belly-up, face turned towards Rick. He starts getting fucked once more, each thrust dragging against his prostate in a way that’s absolutely unfamiliar, and he feels almost dirty, like his very flesh is being invaded with just how excruciatingly _pleasant_ this experience has so quickly become.

Mouth hanging open, drool starting to slip out of the corner of his mouth, and dick being stroked off by several, much smaller and thinner appendages, Morty Smith is a sight to behold, especially from the delicious angle Rick’s able to view him at. The older man manages to surge up, kiss Morty hard, and it’s messy, and their teeth clack together hard enough for a dull jolt of pain to be felt by both parties, but it’s absolutely perfect, and Morty lets out a weak moan into it, voice hoarse from choking back noises and from uttering such a harsh, alien language.

When Rick pulls away from the kiss, his dick gets impossibly harder, almost hurting with how badly he needs to get off just because of the sight in front of him.

Morty looks so _wrecked_ ; sweat’s all over his body and his eyes are half-lidded, and now there are three tentacles thrusting in and out of his lithe body at such a brutally fast pace that his breath is being practically knocked out of him and he’s howling out garbled moans that Rick thinks might be of his name.

Cum spurts from his dick, hitting him in the chest and several ropes managing to get in his mouth and around it, but the mass of tentacles doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop until Morty’s orgasmed six more times, and it only stops because it ran out of lube. It shoots itself a portal, growls out a polite farewell in its language, and leaves Morty in a leaking, exhausted puddle of cum, sweat, lube, and drool on the floor.

 _Now_ Rick decides is the time to use the knife he’d hidden under his tongue, clamping it in-between his teeth and shaking from how turned on he is and has been for the past few hours. He cuts through the ropes, and stumbles over to Morty, cradling his grandson’s torso in his lap and muttering, calling Morty names but in that gruff, semi-affectionate way that shows he just wants Morty to drink some water so that they can fuck already.

Surprisingly, Morty’s able to crack open bleary red eyes, tearstains shimmering on his cheeks still as he cracks a shit-eating grin and starts fumbling with Rick’s belt. “G-G-Go, go gentle, a-an- and you can ffhhnn...f-fuck me,” he gasps out, and Rick knows he shouldn’t. He _really_ shouldn’t. But he nods, presses a kiss to Morty’s sweaty temple and practically purrs as Morty lifts himself up and sinks down onto Rick dick with a shaky sigh of a moan, Rick’s name still the only thing he’ll moan if he moans a word.

Rick bucks his hips up gently, relishes the way Morty squeaks and grips at his grandfather’s shoulders the hardest he can, which is still barely enough for him to hold on, so Rick puts his hands on Morty’s hips, grasps the already-bruised skin there just hard enough that he can fuck into Morty harder, faster, still gentle enough that his ‘roughness’ can be considered passionate, and he kisses Morty sweetly enough that Morty musters up the energy to kiss back, eyes unable to open past half-lidded anymore as he lets them slip shut and his forehead falls forwards onto Rick’s chest. He grinds his hips the best he can, crying out as he cums for the eighth time that night, Rick’s cum filling him up in that thick, warm way he can never get enough of.

Then he passes out, still on Rick’s dick and his own oozing the last of his jizz, not that there’s very much left in his body to let out, if there’s any at all. Rick just chuckles, pulls Morty off of his dick and carries him bridal-style to the bathroom he’d installed in the garage a few months back, and presses a gentle kiss to the exhausted kid’s forehead. “L-Little shit, you’re lucky I love you, o-other, otherwise I wouldn’t wash your nasty ass,” he mumbles with a soft laugh as he starts up the water for a hot bath.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr's kinkykankri, go kinkshame me and give me fic ideas!! <33


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